


What Ails You

by Jadesfire



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four weeks.  Still no sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Ails You

**Author's Note:**

> The dachshund is [](http://becky-h.livejournal.com/profile)[**becky_h**](http://becky-h.livejournal.com/)'s fault, but the rest is mine. With thanks to [](http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/profile)[**donutsweeper**](http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rustydog.livejournal.com/profile)[**rustydog**](http://rustydog.livejournal.com/)

  
In the past four weeks, Tosh has restructured the reports database twice, shot four weevils, helped take down an alien in the body of a dachshund after it killed four people, and had her hair cut. It would be a pretty normal month, except that Jack's been gone for twenty-nine days now, and no one knows how to find him.

Gwen had her write a programme that alerts all their mobiles automatically if there's a time-spike through the Rift, but so far all they've gathered are mystery objects from the future and a Victorian watering can. But Tosh still jumps when her phone buzzes in her handbag, and she drops the other bag on the Tourist Information Centre's counter to fumble for it. It's hard to keep down the surge of hope that this time, maybe, it'll be what they're waiting for. They know Jack travelled through time to wherever he went; maybe this is him, coming back.

It isn't. The spike doesn't last nearly long enough for it to be anything person-sized, and she pushes the 'stop alert' button with more force than she really needs to.

Damn.

Most of the disappointment has worn off by the time she gets down into the Hub, replaced with the aching resignation that she's become accustomed to. Everyone's working just fine, maybe even better than they usually do, because there's no one yelling orders every twenty minutes, or calling impromptu meetings over a Chinese take-away in the conference room. Not that the conference room exists any more, not like it used to. Gwen hasn't exactly eradicated evidence that Jack was ever there, and his office is still untouched, but the new Hub definitely has the Cooper stamp on it. The botany lab is coming on nicely, and the new conference room is warmer, cosier almost. Owen calls it 'a woman's touch' but that's just to make Gwen glare at him.

Still, no one's suggested that maybe they don't need Jack, because the more they manage without him, the more obvious it is that they can't. Tosh has three boxes of mystery items that Jack would normally see to, and she lives in fear that one of them's going to turn out to be a bomb of some kind. Even Owen's struggling with some of his dissections and diagnoses without someone looking over his shoulder, pointing him in the right direction.

Putting her bag down on the desk, Tosh looks up to where the old conference room used to be, where they now have a sort of evidence room, for documents and artefacts that they're working on at the moment. Someone's moving about up there, and given it's only seven-thirty, Tosh knows who it's going to be. Even Ianto gets in later than that these days.

"Hi." Tosh hesitates in the doorway, not wanting to disturb Gwen if she really is in the middle of something.

"Tosh. You're early."

"You too." Gwen has about eight files open in front of her, and looks as though she's been there all night. "Anything important?"

Gwen's smile is half-sad, half-rueful. "Not really. Just catching up. You want some coffee?" She nods towards the pot in the corner of the room.

"Sure." Pouring herself a cup, Tosh pulls out a chair on the opposite side of the table and looks for somewhere safe to put it down. "Can I help?"

"Maybe." From under a heap of autopsy reports, Gwen produces a map which she unfolds and tries to lay flat between them. "I'm trying to see if there's any kind of geographical connection between the last three bodies. Something we're not seeing like power lines or water mains. Anything like that, really."

"Right. Though you know it could be almost anything."

"Or it could be nothing." Gwen shrugs. "It's worth a look, at least, don't you think?"

"Of course." After a moment's hesitation, Tosh reaches into the bag she brought up with her. "Maybe these will help."

"Oooh." The grin that spreads across Gwen's face is the biggest that Tosh has seen in weeks. "Ginger nuts. You're a star, Tosh."

They work in silence for a few minutes, drinking their coffee and trying not to get crumbs on the files. Eventually, Gwen gets up to make another pot, taking a biscuit with her.

"You know," she says, looking at it thoughtfully, "my mam used to give me these when I was little. Every time I was sick. She said there was nothing better for settling your stomach."

"She was right." Warming to the subject, Tosh goes on, "Ginger is highly effective in treating nausea, everything from seasickness to chemotherapy."

"Good for what ails you, eh?"

Tosh feels her smile turn into something smaller, more bitter. "Most things," she says softly, and turns back to her work. After a moment, Gwen joins her with the fresh coffee, and they carry on in silence.

 


End file.
